nookncranny's Diaryland Diary

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lofty discipline

i'm creeping back towards a routine that renders me productive.

i got so slothy there for a spell. sit on butt. look at other peoples' inspirational bouts. blank. dull. thick, gray cloud hovering about my upper torso...

yes girl, you can forage for inspiration; but without some sort of active plan all of your own to be committed to, it's nothing but time slaughtered. you drain.

we deserve a discipline.

it's not, as my poor old parents long ago browbeat into me, a punishment. it's a gift.

it's not heavy. it's a hot air balloon.

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